Loose Knots
by Elfwarrior96
Summary: Desolation of Smaug idea. What would happen if Narzug's bindings were to come loose? What would that mean for Thranduil and Legolas? Please read to find out! Warnings for blood and injuries.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to Professor Tolkien or Peter Jackson.

A/N: So I was walking my dogs this evening, and this idea popped into my head as I was brainstorming for Arrival in Mithlond. Don't ask how my thoughts turned in this direction, I have absolutely no idea myself. I guess that's just how my mind works. Anyways...please let me know what you think, I will post two chapters tonight and see what happens. I won't go too far with this though, for there are other things I want to pursue with Thranduil and injuries that will not work with other pieces I intend to write about him. This is a stand alone piece.

Please read, review, and enjoy if possible. Reviews are welcome and appreciated.

* * *

His hands were not tied together very well, and he had not been thoroughly searched.

It took Narzug a moment to realize that, but when he did, it was almost cause for celebration. Almost, but not quite. It would have to be a silent celebration, and one that he would take full advantage of, but not yet.

Now he was being forced to listen to the Elf-king speak of the nature of evil as he slowly paced around him, "Such is the nature of evil. Out there in the vast ignorance of the world it festers and spreads. A shadow that grows in the dark. A sleepless malice as black as the oncoming wall of night. So it ever was. So will it always be. In time all foul things come forth," stopping behind Narzug and his son and crossing his arms in front of him, fully confident that the orc-filth could not escape his bindings or his son.

In front of him was the she-elf that had captured him.

And holding him was the Elf-prince with a dagger to his throat, looking as though he absolutely loathed the task, but would do so until he was ordered not to.

At that time, Narzug's death would probably be assured.

The Elf-prince holding him suddenly says from above, "You were tracking a company of thirteen dwarves. Why?"

Narzug replies with relish and scorn, "Not thirteen, not anymore." Looking directly at Tauriel he says, "The young one, the blackhead archer, we stuck him with a Morgul shaft. The poison's in his blood. He'll be choking on it soon."

Although her face betrays no emotion, Tauriel's breathing gives much away and she says quietly and with anger in her voice, "Answer the question, filth."

Narzug only spits out, " _Shâ hakhtiz khulnai go, golgi!_ " as he tries to attack her, to which Tauriel responds by spinning her daggers about her head and showing an internal anger that is quickly coming to the fore.

Legolas quickly grabs his hair all the tighter and says, "I would not antagonize her."

Tauriel begins to speak again, her words coming faster and faster as adrenaline starts to course through her veins, "You like killing things, Orc? You like death? Then let me give it to you!" as she makes to strike the orc down, which would have immediately ended not only Narzug's life, but also what he thought he might try to do with the knife he knew was still hidden in reach of his bound hands.

Before she can end the orc's miserable life, she is stopped by the firm, unforgiving voice of her king, " _Farn! Tauriel, ego!_ _Gwao_ _hi!_ "

Tauriel reluctantly walks away, but once out of sight of the throne she leaves quickly to her personal chambers, grabs her bow and blade, and departs the palace without another word. Knowing King Thranduil, he will order the doors sealed until it is deemed safe to open them again, and she will have missed her chance.

* * *

Once Tauriel has left Thranduil says, "I do not care about one dead dwarf. Answer the question. You have nothing to fear. Tell us what you know and I will set you free." as the orc listens carefully, not believing a word coming from the elf's mouth, and getting ready to strike.

He has finally freed his hands, and he cannot believe that no one has noticed! Luckily for him, they were more focused on his reactions than on what his hands were doing at that moment. It would make what he planned to do much easier. Imagine what his master would say when he learned that a simple archer was able to kill the Elf-king that the One wanted dead!

Hiding his smile he returns his attention to the Elf-prince who was asking him: **"** You had orders to kill them, why? What is Thorin Oakenshield to you?"and cocking his head slightly in curiosity.

Narzug, shaking with fake, but at the same time real, anger at the Dwarf's audacity growls, "The Dwarf runt will never be King!"

Legolas is shocked to say the least, but also angry, and so replies with the words, "King? There is no King under the mountain, nor will there ever be. None would dare to enter Erebor whilst the dragon lives." Lord Thranduil begins to slowly walk back in front of the orc.

Narzug hides his smile once again as he sees this motion, knowing his moment is coming as he says, "You know nothing. You're world will burn."

Legolas shakes him and holds the blade closer to Narzug's neck as he says: "What are you talking about? Speak!"

The elven king is right in front of him and grows angry as he hears words he never wanted to hear again, "Our time has come again. My master serves the One."

Narzug notes this, and slips the ropes off his hands, keeping them behind his back the entire time. He carefully reaches for and grabs the hidden knife, not taking his eyes of the Elvenking.

He wants to make sure he hits just the right spot, but he cannot help but taunt the elves as he growls out, "Do you understand now, Elfling? Death is upon you. The flames of war are upon you," and he starts to laugh as he moves forward quickly. He feels his head become free of the Elf-prince as he lunges for the king, who has half-drawn his sword.

It would not be enough.

The look of surprise on the Elvenking's face was an enjoyable one to see for the orc as he jumped the distance between them. He had had no time to draw his sword completely, nor had his son had anyway to stop what was going to pass.

The guards at the bottom of the steps had stirred and were making their up, but they would not be fast enough.

Before anyone could acknowledge what was happening, the orc collided with the Elvenking, the force of the impact propelling them backwards. All present could almost hear the _smack!_ as Thranduil's head hit the stone behind him. He hit the floor limply and was still, and the orc began to deliver the final blow to the defenseless king, not caring if it brought about his own death or not.

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Translations:

Shâ hakhtiz khulnai go, golgi! - I do not answer to dogs, She-Elf!  
Farn! Tauriel, ego! Gwao hi! - Enough! Tauriel, leave! Go now.


	2. Chapter 2

The last few moments were a blur to Legolas. He had only a moment to vaguely notice the orc break free of his grip and notice that it's hands were free before it was lunging at his father. His father was surprised to say the least, but could do nothing to stop the attack.

He had anticipated that his son would be able to hold the creature, and Legolas had failed!

Now was not the time to dwell on past mistakes though, and so Legolas moved faster than lightning itself to get to his father. Before even the guards were aware of what was happening the orc was dead at their feet and Legolas was yelling at them, "Get healers!" before turning to his father, who had not moved after falling against the stone in that entire time.

One of the guards raced off, while the other remained behind to make sure the orc was truly dead.

All this Legolas paid no attention to, his focus entirely on his father.

There was blood coming from a wound to the side of his head, but when Legolas put fingers to the pulse point to check for one, he almost collapsed with relief.

There it was! A strong, steady pulse that thrummed beneath his fingers.

Bowing his head in relief, Legolas gently took his father's limp hand as he waited for the healers. Even though Thranduil was slouched against the stone wall and did not look comfortable at all, Legolas knew better than to move him. Moving him could cause major problems to arise, as well as allow some other injury to make itself known in a thoroughly unpleasant manner.

No, it was better to wait for a healer.

Looking behind him in impatience, Legolas breathed a sigh of relief when he saw Dúlinneth running quickly up the stairs and making her way over to them, a healer's pack in her hands. Behind her were a few apprentices with a stretcher. Dúlinneth was the personal healer to his father, having looked after him since Doriath.

It seemed he had a knack for getting wounded in extreme ways, even though the last incident was before Legolas' birth, thankfully.

Legolas moved over, not letting go of his father's hand the entire time, and Dúlinneth did not try to get him to leave. Despite the image they presented, father and son were extremely close, and she knew she would not be able to get him to leave until he was assured of his father's healing.

Acknowledging him with a nod, Dúlinneth started her examination, taking care when she noticed the blood soaking his near-white locks a horrible crimson.

Other than that, she paid his hair no attention. It could be washed later. Feeling around the area, she found the signs of what would be a very unpleasant few days for the Elvenking. There was already a bump forming on the side of his head, and his head was still bleeding, as head injuries were prone to do.

Gently moving her hands to his neck, she felt it for damage, or anything that could cause problems in the future. Thankfully she found none, but used her hands to brace it just in case as she moved him to be lying flat on the floor with Legolas' help. She motioned to an apprentice, who came and replaced her hands at the base of Thranduil's skull so that she could gauge the severity of his head injury.

She peeled back both eyelids at the same time, and almost instantly sighed. Both pupils were mismatched, and his eyes themselves were unfocused. There was no doubt in her mind that he had a concussion. She closed his eyes and then gently tapped the inside of his eyelids, hoping for a response. She got one, but it was slow and sluggish.

Knowing that Legolas would want to know she turned to him and said, "He has a concussion, _hir nín_ , and will need better tending than we can provide here. I also would like to take a closer look at this wound," she said as she pointed to a small cut on Lord Thranduil's arm that had been missed in the excitement, "orcs blades tend to be dirty enough to cause infection, even without poison."

Legolas nodded, not taking his eyes off his father, and at the same time not really listening to her. Sighing again, this time in exasperation, she took both his shoulders in her hands. She gently shook him and was rewarded with his eyes focusing on her. She smiled and said, "I am sure he will be fine. He is too hard-headed to let something as insignificant as a concussion slow or stop him. And he is not the only one. Come, child, you may stay with him if you like."

Legolas nodded numbly, and quickly let go of his father's hand and stood to give the healers more space to work. Dúlinneth wrapped a bandage around Thranduil's head to absorb some of the blood and protect the wound from further harm, and then she and her apprentices placed the Elvenking on the stretcher, the one apprentice not removing his hands that were bracing the Elvenking's neck.

Two apprentices took up both ends of the stretcher and lifted at the same time, and they began the slow march back to the healing wing, Legolas and Dúlinneth taking up the rear near Thranduil's head in case a problem arose or he woke and was confused, which was a common symptom of a concussion.

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Translations:

Hir nín – my lord


	3. Chapter 3

Voices floated up through a sea of black and at first he did not know where he was. After a moment, though, the pain he was in asserted itself in the form of throbbing in the side of his head and he groaned slightly.

The voices ceased almost immediately, which was a relief for him. His head throbbed in response to each loud noise that was made, and he did not know if he could stand even the whisper of a breeze passing by his ear.

Suddenly, he heard, " _Adar_ , can you hear me?" The question came from next to him, yet he did not respond.

The voice seemed to become more desperate then, for it said, in almost a whisper, "Please, _ada_ , you have slept long enough. I fear for you."

Hearing the grief and desperation made him want to show that he was awake, so he decided to try opening his eyes. He did not think it would hurt that much.

An instant later he was proven wrong.

Blinding white light assaulted his eyes, and he shut them quickly with another groan. A murmuring came to his ringing ears a moment later, and he felt a hand being placed gently on his forehead, veiling his eyes.

Feeling slightly more secure about the prospect of opening his eyes, Thranduil did. The light was not nearly so blinding this time, and he could just make out blurry shapes and figures walking around.

A hand was gently placed on his cheek, and then his head was being turned to the left. He then came face to face with another person who was familiar to him, and that he knew he should know, but for some reason his memory was not working at the moment. The fact that his vision was blurry and out of focus did not help matters either.

Seeing him awake seemed to make the person very happy, though, for he smiled and said, " _Adar_ , can you answer me? Do you know who I am?" 

* * *

At first there was no response from his father, and Legolas grew worried that he did not answer. The confused look in his father's eyes did not comfort him, and he began to grow fearful. Nearby Dúlinneth was watching closely.

A few minutes later, recognition sparked in his fathers' unfocused eyes and he rasped, "Leg'las?"

Legolas smiled shakily and nodded, relief clearly seen in his eyes.

Thranduil's eyes drifted shut for a moment, then shot open as memory returned to him, the last thing he remembered was the orc slamming into him. He immediately tried to get up, but his head spun dizzily and he collapsed back onto the bed.

"Easy, _ada_ , easy," Legolas said soothingly, "You are safe and the orc is dead."

Thranduil seemed to relax at those words, his eyes losing focus even more as his brain protested his body's movement. His breathing became thready and his body relaxed.

" _Ada_ , please stay awake," Legolas begged.

Thranduil tried to focus on his son's voice, and was successful for quite a while. 

* * *

Translations:

Adar/ada – Father/daddy


End file.
